Abomination

by Sean Stone

  “The spirits are saying all sorts of things about you,” she said, with a coy smile. Contrary to what seems to be popular belief you do not inherit psychic abilities upon death. You still only have the knowledge that you experienced in life. So why so many people think that spirits have all the secrets of the universe is beyond me.

  “What are they saying?” Aaron asked eagerly. This ought to be good.

  “Things best not said in front of everyone here,” Sally said rather disappointingly. “Now, I’ve got somebody here who wants to talk to you. He’s saying he’s your grandfather, has your grandfather passed away?”

  I’d like to point out that Aaron looked like he was at least fifty so the chances of his grandfather being alive were slim to none. I was pretty sure that Sally was a fake, but I had to be certain before I crashed the show. That meant enduring more of the appalling act.

  “Yes, he has,” Aaron said, nodding sadly.

  “Hmm, I think he’s saying it was ten years ago?” she suggested. I liked how she phrased it as a question. Some psychic.

  “No,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “Two years ago.”

  “Two, yes of course, he says he was only joking.” The whole room erupted with laughter. Unbelievable. People really do believe what they want to. “He liked a joke didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he did,” Aaron said, he nodded fondly as if they were actually having a reminiscent chat about his grandfather. I mean seriously, who doesn’t like a joke? Even Hitler liked a bit of slapstick.

  “He’s telling me… he died of cancer. Is that right, love, was it cancer?”

  Aaron nodded and looked down at the floor. I wanted so badly for her to try to be more specific, but I knew she wouldn’t, they never were. Cancer is a pretty broad category when it comes to guessing the cause of death. When they try narrowing the field it alway ends badly. Unless they’re actually psychic of course.

  I was nearly ready to jump up and bring an end to the whole charade. All I was waiting on was a Barnum statement. What’s a Barnum statement I hear you say? Let me tell you. A Barnum statement is a statement so broad it could literally apply to anyone. Horoscopes are full of them. Seriously, next time you see a horoscope try applying any sentence to everyone in the room. No matter what zodiac sign they are the statement will work.

  “He’s telling me you’ve got something in your pocket,” Sally said. That was a surprise to me. Was she actually about to exhibit some real psychic ability? “He’s saying you’ve got some…” I was on the edge of my uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting to see if she was actually about to guess what was in his pocket. “…Loose change?” I slumped back down. What man doesn’t have loose change in his pocket? Aaron nodded enthusiastically and the audience applauded yet again. I very nearly considered not opening their eyes to the trickery, but that wouldn’t do me any good. And at the end of the day it was me that I was here for. Not them. I might as well tell you now, I’m a fairly selfish person. You’ll find out soon enough.

  “Right, Aaron, he’s going to tell me a bit about you now,” she said. “Give us a moment. Right, here it is. He’s saying… He’s saying he remembers how you were often a quiet chap, but then at other times you could be the life and soul of the party.”

  “Ding, ding, ding!” I shouted, jumping to my feet and pointing straight at the stage. Everybody turned to look at me, their faces a tableau of astonished horror. The man who was sitting next to me jumped right off his chair. “Barnum statement! There we have it folks, our Barnum statement.”

  “Sir, please return to your seat,” Sally said, trying to usher me back down.

  “You Madame, are a fraud!” I shouted. I shuffled past the people next to me and made my way into the aisle. “You do not have a psychic bone in your body.”

  “Psychic ability is not held in the bones,” she said loftily.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about where psychic ability is kept you dirty little charlatan,” I said. She was right, though; it’s not kept in the bones. I strode up the aisle and hopped up onto the stage. I could tell by the run down venue, and the cheap ticket price that Sally Wenshaw could not afford security. Nobody was going to interrupt my interruption.

  “The spirits are warning me about you,” she said all of a sudden, once again raising her hand to her forehead.

  “What are they saying?” I asked with mock intrigue.

  “Things I’d best not say out loud,” she said shaking her head. “But nothing good I can assure you.”

  “I’ll tell you what, if you can tell me Aaron’s grandfather’s name correctly the first time, I will take back my accusation and leave,” I offered. I already knew that she wouldn’t take my challenge. If she failed, she’d be ruined for sure. At least in Maidstone she would be. She could start a fresh in the next town and not return here for a good year or so. By that time people would’ve forgotten.

  “I have nothing to prove to the likes of you,” she said indignantly.

  “But I bought a ticket,” I replied, equally indignant, but mine was more mocking.

  “Your interruption has voided your ticket,” she said.

  “Didn’t say that in the terms and conditions,” I argued. “Anyway, I’ve had enough of you. Go to sleep,” I said and snapped my fingers in her face. The audience gasped and Aaron leapt across the stage as Sally collapsed in a heap on the floor. Her body was going to ache when she woke up. She deserved it. I turned to the audience.

  “Sally Wenshaw is a fraud,” I announced, with a grand flourish of my hand. “I, as you have just seen, am not. I am magical. My name is Eddie Lancaster and I can help you with all your esoteric needs. And that includes talking to the dead.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card. I threw it out and as I did so the single card multiplied and over a hundred cards rained down on their heads. I’ve only ever paid for one business card. Magic’s handy like that. With my piece said, and my demonstration given I strolled out of the room, a little disappointed at the small number of people who were actually pocketing my card.

  Yes, that’s right. I didn’t come here to save these people from scandal. I came here to increase my customer base. I warned you at the beginning that money was half the reason I was here. Like I said, I’m selfish. It’s all about me. It is my book after all. Besides, if it makes you feel better, I never get much business from events like this. Just enough to keep me going.

  So there you have it. I’m Eddie Lancaster. Warlock for hire. And this, is just one of my many, many adventures. No. No. That’s too cheesy. Even for me. I’m sorry. I cringed when I said that. I promise if you read on I will try my best not to say any more cheesy sentences. I’m probably going to fail though, so just read on anyway.

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